Holding On
by randomwriting
Summary: Love, like life, was unexpected, uncertain, transitory and something to cherish.  JC


Holding On

Disclaimer: CBS, creators, producers, etc., own all recognizable characters, not me; I'm just borrowing them.

Holding On

The reflection staring back at her in the full-length mirror confirmed her misgivings. The moment she'd slipped the satin material over her head, she'd begun questioning her choice of attire, and now, despite her overly critical eye, she had all the proof she needed.

If she greeted Jake at the doorway wearing this, she'd be lucky to get the door closed behind him before he'd be all over her. Her cheeks colored just thinking about the reception she'd get from him. Forget the special dinner she'd spent hours preparing, she'd be the main course and dessert rolled into one sumptuous feast.

Dropping her eyes, she absently fingered the lacy hem of the green satin babydoll. The sexy lingerie had been a surprise gift for Jake to celebrate his promotion to Homicide Detective. Dedication, sacrifice and years of undercover work had earned him the coveted assignment, and this tantalizing bit of satin and lace had been her private way of letting him know how proud and happy she was.

Although she preferred sleeping in a simple tank top or a well-worn T-shirt of Jake's, there was no denying the allure of sexy lingerie. She possessed similar beautiful nightwear, but this particular one was special. It had provided just the right spark to turn their night of celebration into one he'd never forget.

The silky smooth fabric hugged her curves and skimmed her thighs, barely concealing the matching satin panties she wore underneath. The emerald color had been chosen expressly to enhance her green eyes, although it wasn't her eyes that commanded his attention once she'd slipped it on, she recalled with a self-conscious smile.

Eyeing her reflection anew, she pondered the evening she'd spent days planning. This, she decided, was exactly the vision she wanted greeting Jake when he came through the door. Tonight was for celebrating, and if there was a better way to start the evening off, she couldn't think of it. It hardly mattered that Jake was clueless about the significance of the date; today marked an anniversary worthy of a celebration, and she had every intention of making it a memorable one.

As for the dinner she'd prepared, she'd wisely planned a meal that could be easily stored and quickly warmed up. _If we ever get around to eating,_ she thought with a self-satisfied smile.

Decision made, she ran her fingers through her loose waves and took one last look before stepping away from the mirror. She was ready, but where was Jake?

Grabbing her watch off the dresser, she frowned at the time. He'd promised he'd try to leave work early. She sighed wearily. No one knew better than she did how the unexpected cropped up in their line of work, but she'd optimistically hoped today wouldn't be one of those days. She'd managed to skip out early, why couldn't he do likewise?

He may not have known what she was cooking up, but surely he knew something was brewing. This morning she'd made it abundantly clear that tonight's dinner was one he wouldn't want to miss. As an added incentive to spur him out the door, there was also that enticing voice mail she'd left him a short while ago. She knew Jake, and that would have him itching to leave work as soon as possible. Why he hadn't called back was perplexing, but she wasn't going to dwell on it. Dwelling would do little but fill her with unwelcome annoyance. Her spirits were much too high to let anything dampen them tonight.

She wandered into the kitchen imagining she'd busy herself with last minute preparations. The table was set with her nicest dinnerware, the candles were ready to be lit, and the vase of tulips was arranged just so. They likely wouldn't be eating anytime soon, but she wanted everything to be perfect once they did get around to it. Giving the room the once over, it was clear there was nothing more she needed to do, even the food had been carefully packed up and refrigerated. She glanced up at the clock and quickly looked away, it didn't help nor did it get him home any quicker. She'd have to find something else to occupy her time while she waited.

Padding into the living room, she sank into the couch cushions and surveyed the room. A large bouquet of yellow and white tulips centered the coffee table, permeating the air with a heavenly scent. An assortment of unlit candles graced every flat surface; romantic ambience would be theirs at the strike of a match. Flowers and candles adorned the bedroom as well. Pleased with her handiwork, she grabbed a magazine off the table and began methodically flipping through the pages, paying scant attention to their content. At the sound of the phone, she threw the magazine down with a flourish. "Finally," she said with an eager smile.

"Hello?" she answered brightly.

"Calleigh, it's Frank." The familiar twang possessed an ominous quality that caught her off guard.

"What can I do for you, Frank?" she asked, choosing to ignore her apprehension.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you…" He hesitated, just long enough for a flurry of anxiety to sweep through her. "Your boy Jake's been hurt. Badly hurt," he added as if simply telling her that Jake had been hurt hadn't done his condition justice. "Took a knife to the gut." Brusquely stated and to the point, his words cut through her swiftly and effectively. "They're taking him to Mercy now." _Jake… knife… hospital_… Her heart tightened before plunging into her stomach. A dozen questions sat on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't formulate a one of them well enough to speak. "Calleigh? You there?" he asked, concern heavy in his voice.

"I'm here," she answered, finally finding her voice.

"He's hangin' on, but he's lost a good amount of blood. You probably ought to get on your way." There was no mistaking the note of foreboding in Frank's voice._ Hanging on, but for how long?_ "You need a lift? I can send a car for you."

"No, I can get there quicker myself," she said, shaking her head. "But thanks." Her steady voice and attention to propriety belied her anxiety. She hung up, her brain already calculating the shortest route to Mercy Hospital. There was little time to spare. According to Frank, Jake had already lost a good amount of blood… _What if they couldn't stop the bleeding in time?_ The thought froze in her brain, sending a chill down her spine. _Don't go there_, she silently chided. Nothing would be gained by running dire _what if_ scenarios in her head. _He'll be fine. He has to be…_

Her mind reeling, she surged into the bedroom, stopping short once she got there. She was accustomed to high-pressure situations, yet her normally ordered thought processes were inexplicably failing her. _Slow down and think. You can't go out dressed like this._ Changing would take too long, she reasoned, covering up would be simpler.

The slacks she'd worn earlier were draped across the bench in front of the bed, and she made a beeline for them. Grabbing a pair of heels from the closet, she spied a sweater that had fallen off the shelf and picked it up. Rather than waste time looking for another top, she opted to wear what she already had in her hands. Hastily she slipped it over her head and pulled it down. Too late she realized the sweater was Jake's. The large, V-necked pullover slipped off her shoulders and the sleeves hung past her hands, but she couldn't bring herself to take it off. It would have to do. Turning on her heels, she snatched her purse and sped out of the apartment.

Despite her knowledge of shortcuts, the drive to Mercy Hospital wasn't the speedy one she'd hoped for. Not for the first time, she second-guessed her decision not to let Frank send a patrol car for her. Pushing that thought out of her head, she concentrated solely on the road. As the lights of the hospital came into view, she loosened the vice grip she'd had on the wheel and let out her breath.

The relief at finally reaching her destination was short-lived. _What if I'm too late?_ A momentary shiver of panic swept through her as she exited the car, but she forced herself to settle down. _He'll be okay. _With purposeful strides she swiftly made her way across the parking lot.

She began searching for a familiar face the moment she passed through the glass doors of the Emergency Department. Almost immediately she spotted Natalia standing by the reception desk amidst the chaos. Briskly she strode towards her, feeling her pulse accelerate with every step.

Her back to Calleigh, Natalia restlessly shifted her weight back and forth. She turned abruptly as if sensing her friend's arrival. Her tense expression relaxed slightly, but Calleigh paid little heed, her eyes were riveted on the large evidence bag Natalia was holding against her chest. The sight stopped her in her tracks, causing her blood to run cold. Jake's clothes were in that bag.

_Jake's blood soaked clothes._

She knew exactly what that bag held: gray suit coat, light blue shirt and dark blue, skinny tie. She knew because she'd watched him dress while she lazed in the bed contented from their early morning lovemaking.

And for the first time since getting Frank's call, she felt her composure falter.

"Calleigh? Are you okay?" Natalia's gentle voice and hand on her forearm pulled Calleigh out of her trance.

"I'm fine, _I'm_ not the one who was brought in here bleeding. Where is he?" She failed to master her emotions and her anxiety spilled out in her voice.

"They got him stable and brought him to the operating room just a little while ago." Lips frozen in a tight, thin line, Calleigh could only nod. "I followed him here, so I could collect his clothes," Natalia said ruefully, holding up the evidence bag. "He's okay, Calleigh."

"He hardly sounds okay if they're operating on him." She fixed a pointed gaze on Natalia, challenging her statement.

Natalia's face tightened. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that, but once they stop the bleeding, he will be okay. You have to believe that, Calleigh." She paused to catch a breath. "They wouldn't tell me very much, but I was standing outside the treatment room and I heard the doctor say his CAT scan looked better than they expected. He's lucky, it could've been a lot worse." Her voice trailed off, and she looked away as if regretting the last words she'd spoken.

_A lot worse_. Calleigh felt the color drain from her face as her brain wrapped around the implication of those words. She fought to keep her anxiety in check. "Frank said he'd lost a lot of blood." Blood she imagined she could see through the brown evidence bag.

"Yeah, he did." Natalia lowered her eyes and voice. "I think they pumped him full of fluid before they took him to surgery." She looked up then, catching Calleigh's eye. "I talked to him briefly before the paramedics forced me out of the way." Calleigh's eyes widened, she hadn't realized Natalia had been at the scene. Natalia nodded, her expression somber. "I was there, in the house collecting evidence. Jake and a couple of the uniforms were outside when it happened," she explained as if reading Calleigh's mind. Her hand was back on Calleigh's arm. "He said to tell you…"

"Tell me what?" The words burst from Calleigh's lips before Natalia had a chance to finish.

"Not to worry." Natalia's face brightened, and a faint smile appeared on her lips. "The paramedics weren't very happy he'd taken off his oxygen mask, but you know Jake, he did it anyway." She shook her head, and Calleigh reflexively mimicked the motion, feeling both incredulous and relieved that Jake was still Jake even under those circumstances. Natalia's smile grew larger as if pleased she could offer something comforting. Her voice dropped to an almost whisper. "And he said to tell you he loved you."

Calleigh inhaled, feeling the breath catch in her throat. He loved her. And he didn't want her worrying. Lying on a stretcher, surrounded by paramedics attempting to stem the rush of blood and keep him alive, and Jake's concern lay with her. A rush of irrepressible guilt assailed her. She should've been there. She should've been by his side, holding his hand, and telling him the very same thing. But she wasn't. The regret weighed heavy on her heart. All she could do now was wait.

"Did they say how long the surgery would take?" Impatience sounded in her voice. Restlessly she fussed with the sleeves of Jake's sweater, rolling them up for the umpteenth time.

"No, they didn't. I'm sorry I don't have more news for you." Disappointment colored her expression and tinged her voice. "I did tell them you were on your way, and the nurse assured me the doctor would look for you in the waiting room when he was finished. Do you want me to walk you there before I head back to the lab?" Natalia asked.

"No, I can find my own way," Calleigh answered firmly. "But thank you." She forced a smile on her lips.

"I know the waiting is hard, but he's in good hands. He will be okay." Natalia's optimism gave her a small measure of comfort, but she wouldn't believe it until she could see him for herself. "I don't know how much Frank told you..." Natalia paused and averted her eyes. Her uncertainty about whether to continue showed on her face.

Frank had given her no specifics, but at the moment, those missing details weren't as important as getting news from Jake's doctor. Calleigh took a step closer, briefly lighting her fingers on her friend's arm. Her words were deliberate, her tone resolute. "Horatio can fill me in later. Right now, I need to get to the waiting room and you need to get back to the lab."

Natalia's relief at not having to provide Calleigh with the specifics was palpable. The warmth in her eyes signaled a silent thank you. "I wish I could wait with you, but Horatio wanted all of the evidence as soon as possible. Will you call me if you need anything?"

"I will," Calleigh answered, tapping her foot, anxious to be on her way.

"Alright. If you ask at the reception desk, someone will point you in the right direction."

"Thanks." Abruptly she turned from Natalia and strode off.

…

After what seemed an interminable wait, she finally received word that Jake was stable enough to leave the recovery room. She knew his room number, having been tipped off by his surgeon and headed there directly.

She was waiting by the window when two nurses wheeled him in. Clearly not expecting to find her in the room, they eagerly suggested she go for coffee while they got Jake settled into the bed, a suggestion Calleigh quickly disregarded.

"Oh, I won't be in the way," Calleigh said with forced brightness as she backed up against the window and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her cool gaze and tightened mouth served as a warning that she had no intention of leaving the room. Despite the reproachful looks that passed between them, neither nurse made any further reference to leaving and went about their business as if she wasn't there.

Calleigh, however, watched their movements carefully while at the same time keeping a keenly observant eye on Jake. Expressionless and with an iron-tight hold on her emotions, she raked her eyes over his supine figure, seeking proof that he really was okay.

He was paler than she had ever seen him, making his late day stubble stand out in stark contrast against his pallid complexion. Restless and agitated, his every movement was accompanied by a grimace and a muffled groan. Mumbling monosyllabic answers to the nurse's questions, he hardly seemed awake. Briefly he opened his eyes, but Calleigh was out of his line of sight. _He doesn't even know I'm here_, she thought regretfully.

The nurses transferred him from the gurney to the bed, and once settled, Jake drifted back to sleep. Relaxed, he looked far more comfortable than he had a few moments earlier. Calleigh took in a deep breath and let the air out slowly, feeling the relief wash over her as she did. Relief, however, quickly turned to impatience as she waited for the nurses to complete their tasks.

Taking her eyes off Jake, Calleigh turned her gaze to the young nurse now standing mystified in front of the IV pump. Caustic thoughts ran through Calleigh's mind as she watched. The nurse, whose ID tag identified her as Adriana, leaned over the bed, seemingly to adjust the IV tubing that ran from a vein in Jake's hand to the bag of much needed fluid. After fiddling with the tubing, she turned back to the machine responsible for pumping the fluid. Her perplexed expression did nothing to engender Calleigh's confidence in her abilities.

Under Calleigh's persistent stare, Adriana pressed a series of buttons, waited, carefully checked Jake's IV, and then tried the buttons again. At the sound of a beep, she let out a triumphant sigh. Satisfied the pump was now functioning, Calleigh turned her attention back to Jake, who'd neither moved nor woken while her attention was elsewhere.

The other nurse had already exited the room, and Adriana, after issuing a few terse explanations to Calleigh while she completed her duties, seemed anxious to follow in her footsteps, but Calleigh had other ideas. Moving around the bed, she positioned herself between Adriana and the door. She had questions that needed answers. Tapping her foot impatiently, she waited until she had the young nurse's full attention. Adriana huffed irritably, but patiently answered each of the questions Calleigh quietly fired at her, earning a gracious smile of gratitude from the blonde before scurrying out of the room.

Finally alone with Jake, Calleigh pulled the room's one lone chair to the side of his bed and settled into it, prepared for another wait. She knew it might be a while before he fully woke.

Leaning into the bed, she brought her face close to his, whispered reassuringly, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Clasping his slack hand in hers, she squeezed lightly, reluctant to wake him.

_He really is okay_, she silently reassured, yet the day's events still weighed heavily on her mind. _What ifs _hovered close to the surface, perched precariously atop all the new information she was trying to process and tune out at the same time.

Horatio had phoned earlier and provided a comprehensive account of the attack, as well as an update on the case from a procedural standpoint. Jake's doctor had met her in the waiting room and provided the medical and surgical specifics. Now all of their well-intended details merged into a continuous loop of data that hammered at her relentlessly.

_His priority was securing the suspect… worrisome blood loss… didn't see it coming… a fraction more in any direction… stopped the assailant in time… could've been much worse… extremely lucky…_

He _was_ lucky; she'd seen enough stabbing victims throughout her career to know that the outcome could've been far different. She tried to hold onto that thought, but the ceaseless, inward questions continued to haunt her.

This had to be what it felt like to have time stand still, locking you in a moment that wouldn't pass, she thought idly. Despite the knots of tension building in her neck and the telltale tingling that signaled body parts gone to sleep, she maintained her silent watch. She longed to get up, to move, to flee… but an emotion far stronger than any impulse kept her anchored exactly where she was, sitting in a chair, watching him sleep.

His eyelids fluttered open. Unfocused dark eyes darted back and forth. Confusion stretched over his face. She leaned closer, giving his hand a squeeze. "Hey," she said softly. He turned his face towards hers, and she could see the beginnings of a smile.

"Hey, beautiful." The familiar greeting sent a shiver rippling through her and a spontaneous grin overtook her features. She rested her free hand on his cheek, lightly stoking with the pad of her thumb.

"I was hoping you'd wake up soon." Her voice rang with a mix of joy and relief.

"Was hoping you'd be here when I did." The husky sounds of sleep clung to his voice, but his eyes were bright and clear.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," she reassured, still grinning. "How do you feel?" It was with unrestrained concern that she looked at him now.

"Like I got a knife shoved in me," he answered with a throaty chuckle. "But it's not like it's the first time that's ever happened." Her face froze, and she stiffened slightly at his words. He gave her a reassuring smile and tugged on her hand. "I'm fine, Calleigh," he emphasized. "It's not so bad." His attempt to lighten both the incident and his condition wasn't enough to alleviate the twisting of her insides, but she forced a smile on her face anyway.

"Well, let's hope it's the last."

"C'mere," he said, reaching for her with his IV hand. Slipping his hand behind her neck, he pulled her closer, wincing as he did, and brushed his lips against hers. "I'm real glad you're here," he said before covering her mouth with his.

Gently she kissed him, lingering in the kiss and savoring the feel of his warm lips against hers. She pulled back slightly, enough to gauge his reaction. "Are you hurting?" she asked tenderly.

"Well, not when you kiss me," he answered. Rising off the bed with a grimace and a groan, he reached again for her lips. She met his lips in a hesitant kiss, reluctantly giving in to his insistent mouth.

Raising her lips off his, she gently pushed him back on the bed and gazed into his eyes. "Are you sure you're okay? You look like you're in pain." He met her skeptical look with a frown.

"Hurts to move is all," he said with a shrug that brought about another wince.

"Well, then don't move around so much." She ignored his disgruntled look and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I don't want you overdoing it."

He scooted over in the bed with another groan and patted the spot he'd just vacated. "Then come closer and I won't have to," he insisted.

She raised an eyebrow as she considered his request. Almost anyone could walk in and find her sitting on his bed, yet he'd hardly give up if she refused. Deciding it might be the only thing that kept him from moving around so much, she relented. Rising off the chair, she moved to the edge of his bed, and set herself carefully beside him. "Happy now?"

"Yeah." He nodded, giving a satisfied smile. "Can you hit that thing on the side of the bed so I can sit up more?"

Twisting around, she pushed down on the lever, raising the head of the bed, and looked back at him. "Better?"

He slipped his arm around her. "Much. Now you can stop fretting so much," he said with a smirk. "And kiss me."

"Aren't you the demanding one. Those nurses are going to have their hands full," she said, laughing lightly before giving in to his demand. She pressed against his eager parted lips, feeling a rush of delicious sensation as he slowly kissed her.

"Don't worry, I won't be asking them to kiss me," he said when they eventually pulled apart.

"That's very reassuring," she grinned. Resting her hand on the side of his head, she wove her fingers through his tousled hair.

"And if they get too close, you can give them your 'hands off' look."

With an expression of wide-eyed innocence, she shook her head and discounted his statement. "I don't have any such look."

It was his turn to chuckle. "Yeah, you do. I've seen it up close." After a moment, he gave her a pensive look. "Have you been here long? My head's still foggy from all the drugs."

"Mm, a while. I came as soon as Frank called." Her expression now matched his.

"I figured someone would call you. You get all the details?" he asked, eyeing her cautiously. She nodded, swallowing hard before answering.

"Horatio called while you were still in surgery. He filled me in." Masking her emotions, she transferred her gaze to the window. This was a conversation she'd hoped they could avoid a while longer.

She knew all of the particulars. The curious investigator side of her had listened attentively to Horatio, imagining the scene as he described it, and then asked all of the appropriate questions with the detachment of a professional, but the side that fell asleep each night in Jake's arms and woke to his smile every morning, had no such professional detachment. With sheer determination she could rein in her emotions at will, but when it came to Jake, nothing could numb her heart.

"I'm sorry, Calleigh, for dragging you down here and making you worry." His face twisted, and he looked away, turning his attention to the IV tubing he'd been fiddling with while he talked. "I still can't believe I didn't react sooner. That'll teach me not to notice what's going on behind me," he scoffed.

"Jake, you couldn't have." She caught his gaze and reached for his hand. Putting her focus on the details Horatio had given her and the reassurance that Jake needed, she pushed thoughts of the danger he'd been in to the back of her mind. "Horatio told me you were securing a suspect who was struggling to get away. That knife was meant for him, not you. There wasn't anything you could've done except what you did, which was put yourself between the suspect and the assailant at the expense of your own safety." She hesitated, taking a deep breath before continuing. "You can't blame yourself for this. As it is, you very likely saved that suspect's life." Her voice jumped around as she spoke despite her attempt to keep it steady.

"Yeah, by taking the knife meant for him. I'm sure the Lieutenant's pleased that I, at least, kept his suspect safe from harm." He gave a bitter chuckle.

It pained her knowing he held himself accountable for something that was out of his control. "Horatio doesn't hold you accountable for this and neither should you. He was very worried about you. We all were," she added, recalling Frank's voice on the phone and the expression on Natalia's face.

Jake's jaw tensed and his hand twitched under hers. "My case, my scene. I should've been aware of everything going on around me. This never should've gone down this way." He was looking beyond her, a scowl distorting his features.

"Your assailant was standing with an officer at the time. It was _his_ responsibility to keep eyes on him."

He looked back at her with wide eyes, still scowling. "Yeah, well, he sure didn't happen to catch the knife that guy was brandishing. Might've been nice if he had, though." The edge to his words cut straight through her.

"Well, he didn't," she said with a defeated sigh, averting her eyes from his. She turned her attention to his IV pump in a vain attempt to quiet her mind. Listening intently to the unique sound of its motor, she concentrated on the droplets of fluid as they dripped into the chamber of liquid. One perfect droplet formed on the edge of another before losing its unique shape forever. _Nothing lasts. _A shadow passed over her face as she vainly attempted to push the thought to the furthest reaches of her mind.

"Cal? You okay?" He tugged on her hand and she turned her head to face him.

"What?" she asked momentarily flustered.

"I asked you if you were okay. You got pretty quiet there."

"I'm fine," she answered, giving him a weak smile. He was stroking the inside of her wrist with his thumb and looking at her with such concern she thought her heart might burst.

"You sure?"

"Mm." She nodded.

"Okay." He didn't believe her; she could see the doubt in his eyes, but he didn't press. "What are you looking at over there that's so fascinating?" he asked, turning his head to where she was once again staring.

She sighed. "Nothing fascinating, just watching the IV pump. Your nurse was having trouble with it earlier."

"Seems to be fine now." He shrugged.

"I just would have thought that someone might've been by to check it or at least to check on you."

"Fine by me if they stay away. I've seen enough of them today to last me a good long while. Besides, if someone does come in they'll catch you in bed with me," he teased.

"I'm not _in_ bed with you," she huffed.

"Well, not yet anyway." Inching closer, he gave her a lustful look that had the heat rising to her cheeks. The look was soon followed by a grimace that had him clenching his teeth.

"Honestly Jake, you're supposed to be resting," she said, shaking her head at him. "And judging by the faces you're making, I'd say it's time for more pain med. You know, all you have to do is push that button," she said, pointing to the handset next to him that would infuse a regulated dose of analgesic through his IV whenever he needed it.

"Nah, don't need it." He shook his head. She gave him her best don't-try-to-fool-me look, but he waved it off with his hand. "I'm fine." His steadfast refusal and set expression revealed the stubborn streak she was well acquainted with. "Besides, it'll put me right back to sleep and I just barely woke up." He shifted his position in the bed, grimacing as he did.

She rested her hand on his forehead, stroking lightly, determined to try again. "There's no reason for you to be lying here in pain, and the sleep would be good for you." There was more rustling under the covers. "You know, for someone who's fine, you're awfully antsy."

"I am fine, Calleigh," he reiterated. "Just trying to find a comfortable position." A look of frustration passed over his face as his eyes darted around the room. "I hate being stuck in here," he said irritably.

"I know," she said with a heavy sigh. "Hopefully it won't be for very long." He slipped his arm around her waist, brushing his fingers along the edges of the sweater and the contact seemed to settle him down.

His eyebrows rose inquiringly as his fingers tugged on the hem of the sweater. "What've you got on? Is this that old sweater of mine?"

"It is," she answered self-consciously, lowering her eyes from his. "Frank called and I had to get dressed in a hurry. This was lying on the floor, so I grabbed it," she answered, absently pushing up a sleeve. "It saved me from looking for something else to wear."

"So how come you were undressed?" he asked with interest.

"I was surprised you even owned a sweater. I don't think I've never seen you wear one," she said, changing the subject and avoiding his question. "I bet it would look nice on you."

"Some Christmas present a while back, probably never worn. It was stuck in a pile of clothes I brought over. I thought I shoved it up on the shelf. Must've fallen," he shrugged. "Looks nice on you," he said, giving her a broad smile. "So you never told me why you were undressed when Frank called," he continued, clearly unwilling to let the subject drop. "I do seem to recall you were rather anxious for me to get home for dinner tonight."

She chose to ignore his growing amusement. "I wasn't undressed exactly..." Her cheeks colored from the heat of his gaze. She forced a tight smile on her face, hoping he wouldn't notice her growing discomfort.

"What are you hiding under here?" he asked playfully, sliding his hand underneath the sweater. Slowly his roaming hand traveled up the length of satin, stopping to trace the outline of her breast with his fingertips. Her body quivered slightly from the contact and she responded by trying to pull away.

"Jake, you just had surgery," she said with exasperation. "And I'm certain this isn't what your doctor had in mind for you tonight," she began as firmly as she could under the circumstances.

"Actually they were wanting to get my blood pressure up," he snickered. Ignoring her protest, he slid the sweater off one shoulder with his free hand, exposing the emerald green strap. With a sly grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes, he hooked a finger under the strap and lightly rubbed his knuckle against her collarbone while his other hand continued to roam freely across the satin. Judging by the change in his demeanor and the agility of his movements, his pain seemed to have all but disappeared. "This what you were planning on wearing for dinner?" he asked with a smirk. She didn't respond; the answer was as obvious as the flush spreading across her cheeks. "There is nothing I like better than seeing you in this fancy little thing, except for seeing you out of it." Head tilted, he fixed a tight-lipped, knowing smile on her. One look at the gleam in his eyes and she knew what was coming next. "You had to know we weren't going to be eating any dinner tonight."

"I figured as much," she said, looking at him from beneath a fringe of lashes. She bit back her smile. The last thing Jake needed was encouragement. Gently she pushed him back on the bed, extricating herself from his roving hands in the process. "But right now you're in a hospital bed," she reminded him.

"And not very happy about it, especially now that I know what I'm missing out on," he returned, looking as every bit as disgruntled as he sounded. "So what was the special occasion?' he asked, grabbing her hand.

"Nothing special," she answered, avoiding his eyes. "Just a quiet dinner."

"Quiet dinner? Dressed like that? C'mon Cal, spill."

"But I did make us a nice dinner," she defended.

"I've no doubt you did, but something tells me there was a bit more to this night than just dinner." His eyes narrowed and his brows drew together as he studied at her. "What am I missing?"

She hesitated telling him, but his intent questioning gaze deserved an honest answer. "It was an anniversary dinner."

"Whose anniversary?" he asked with a puzzled expression.

"Well, ours, silly."

He gave her a look of wide-eyed bewilderment. "We have one?"

She couldn't help but grin at the expression on his face; his response was exactly what she'd expected. "We do. Do you know what today is?"

He shook his head. "Not off the top of my head, but I'm thinking maybe I'm supposed to."

Smiling, she gave her head a gentle shake. "I didn't expect you would, which was fine because I wanted it to be a surprise. Today is the anniversary of the day we met." She could see the wheels turning in his head as he digested the information.

"Back at the Academy? And you remembered the date?" he asked, sounding astonished.

She nodded, still grinning. "What can I say? I'm good with dates and details," she answered with a shrug.

"I remember that day." His mouth curved into a smile that extended all the way to his eyes. "I remember you. Most beautiful girl I'd ever laid eyes on, still are as a matter of fact."

"Aren't you sweet," she said, blushing.

"Turned my head from the very first," he said, tossing his head to the side with a far off look in his eyes as if reliving the moment. "I didn't know how I was going to be able to concentrate on anything with you there distracting me."

"Mm, I seem to recall that's exactly what you said to me when we first met," she said, giving him a playful smile.

"You remember that?" He laughed, biting back grimace of pain as he did.

Her eyes widened with concern, but she knew if she fussed, he'd deny the pain. "I do," she answered, watching him carefully. "You approached me while I had my head buried in a manual and said _Hello beautiful_. Made quite an impression, although probably not the one you intended." She laughed lightly and gave her head a casual toss, sending blonde locks cascading down her back.

"What do you mean? I was very charming."

"You certainly thought you were charming."

"Well, I charmed you, didn't I? Admit it, you were smitten," he said with a voice full of cockiness.

"Hardly smitten," she scoffed. "I thought you were full of yourself and not at all my type," she retorted, biting back the smile that threatened to expose her. His rakish, bad boy allure had drawn her like a magnet the first time she'd laid eyes on him until the rational side of her brain attempted to intervene.

"Oh, really?" he asked, slipping his hand behind her neck, pulling her closer. "Then how'd I end up being the one keeping you distracted?" he asked against her lips.

"Well, you were persistent, I'll give you that," she said, brushing up against his warm mouth. "But I'd say we both did an equal amount of distracting."

"That we did," he said before reaching for her lips. He held her gaze as they pulled apart and cupped her cheek in his hand. "You were strong, sassy, and very, very sexy. And no one was smarter. It was a lethal combination." He gave his head a slight shake, but never took his eyes off her. "There you were, so certain you had to prove yourself to everyone, you couldn't see how special you were." Caressing her cheek with his thumb, he gave her the smile that had been her undoing from the start. "But I did." His dark eyes were intent on hers, absorbing all her attention. "And I still do."

She took in a deep breath and let the air out slowly while her thoughts filtered back to the first day that smile first unleashed the butterflies. "Well, then I'm glad I decided you were worth a second look."

"So am I." He brushed his thumb against her lips.

"But it wasn't your charm or good looks that garnered you a second glance, although I will admit you did possess a certain appeal."

"Thought so," he said, seemingly pleased with himself and fixing her with a lop-sided smile she couldn't help but match, even as she rolled her eyes at him.

"It was your eyes, the way you looked at me, long and deep and with such unexpected sincerity." His penetrating gaze had gone straight to the heart of her, revealing himself in the process. She paused, taking another breath before continuing. "It didn't matter what you said or how you said it, you gave yourself away with your eyes. And when you looked at me that way, there was nothing I could hide. You saw me… all of me." Hugging her arms low on her chest, she let out a wistful sigh.

Gently he took one of her hands in his. "Well, you were surely worth seeing."

"But you were different, you saw me and not who you wanted me to be. I liked that about you. I guess I just liked what I saw when I looked past all your charm."

He tilted his head to the side, shook it slightly and gave her a look of faint amusement. "Well, you certainly didn't make it very easy for me, even though we both know you were smitten." His lips curved upward at the end of the sentence, his smile serving as punctuation.

"And we both know I wasn't the only one," she said, leaning in and hovering just above his lips.

"That would be true. I'd have probably done just about anything to win your affections," he said, grabbing a quick kiss before she pulled away.

It had hardly been a struggle.

Determined as she'd been not to lose her heart to him, keeping her guard up against Jake, who'd seen clear through her barriers, required more willpower than she could summon.

"We were good together," he said, squeezing her hand.

"We were," she said, smiling wistfully, casting her gaze to the window. But it couldn't last, nothing good ever did.

Happiness allowed for a brief, tenuous hold before it vanished from even the hardiest grip.

She'd known from the first that Jake wasn't one who would take to being held on to, but she'd fallen for him anyway. She'd surrendered her heart with little resistance; it had always been his. His for the taking, his for the breaking.

"We still are, you know," he said.

She could hear the fatigue in his husky voice and knew without looking that his eyes would be heavy lidded. The day, the surgery, and the pain were catching up to him, though she knew he'd be loath to admit it. "I know," she said, turning her gaze back to him. They were good together. This time around, they finally seemed to be getting it right, and yet never had her hold on happiness felt more tenuous than it did today. "You look tired," she said, pushing that discomforting thought from her mind and concentrating on him. "You want to try to get some sleep?"

"Nah, not just yet," he said, shifting in the bed. "Cal, I…" he started, but cut off abruptly. Groaning under his breath, his face contorted and his entire body tensed. He gripped the hand he'd been holding with surprising strength, squeezing so tightly she bit back a yelp. His pallid complexion took on a worrisome greenish tint, and she wondered for a moment if he might get sick.

"Jake, what's wrong?" she asked, breathy with concern. With his twisted expression and tightly clamped eyes, he looked to be in a great deal of pain. "Do you need me to get the nurse?" she asked as her eyes sought the whereabouts of the call button.

It took him a moment to respond, and when he did, it was with a vigorous shake of his head. Gently she placed her free hand on his forehead, which was now dotted with a light sheen of sweat and noticeably warmer than it had been earlier. He let out a strangled breath. "Damn, that hurt like hell." He sounded surprised, and judging by the wide-eyed look he was giving her, he'd been taken aback by the ferocity of the pain. His body finally relaxed, and he relinquished the firm grip he'd had on her hand, although he didn't let go.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" she asked, finally letting out the breath she'd been holding. He nodded, taking in a deep breath as he did. "Will you please give yourself the medicine now?" She gave him a look that made it clear she wasn't going to back down this time. He sighed loudly, but gave her no argument, unless the aggrieved look in his eyes counted as such. Muttering to himself, he fumbled with the handset and dosed himself with a touch of the button. Relieved, she gave him a small smile and stroked his forehead. His color had returned to its earlier shade of pale, which was an improvement of sorts, as was his less anguished expression. "Please don't wait so long next time," she gently admonished. "You need to give yourself the medicine _before_ the pain gets that bad."

"Fine," he grumbled.

Knowing how stubborn he could be when he put his mind to it, she couldn't help but feel guilty she hadn't insisted he dose himself earlier. She should have known he'd ignore his discomfort as long as possible. Next time she'd brook no argument from him. "I'm going to lower your head a bit," she said placing her hand on the lever. "So you can sleep."

"Fine," he mumbled without looking at her. His eyes darted around the room haphazardly. "You know when I'm getting out of here?" he asked brusquely, giving her a sideways glance.

"Sorry sweetie, I don't. The doctor wouldn't say. I think it depends on how you're doing." She hesitated before going on. "I'm concerned you might be running a slight fever."

"Well, that's just great," he said with unrestrained sarcasm.

"I suspect someone will be by shortly to check on you," she said, ignoring his mood. "Do you feel a bit better?"

"Somewhat." His mouth was set in a tight, thin line and he looked as miserable as she knew he felt. For someone used to calling the shots and keeping control, being laid up in this fashion was disheartening as well as frustrating. If their roles had been reversed, she'd feel no differently, although she suspected if it were Jake sitting by her bedside, his emotions would be far less restrained than hers had been. On the heels of that thought, she couldn't help but wonder, how much longer she'd be able to keep hers reined in. Taking in a slow, deep breath, she turned her gaze to the window.

She'd seen him sick, nursed him through a couple injuries, and even met him in the emergency room a time or two, but those were long ago and inconsequential. She'd never seen him quite like this, never sat helplessly at his bedside while dark, unbidden thoughts clawed at the back of her mind. She'd never gotten the call that sent shivers of ice-cold fear rippling down her back and left her grappling with emotions she could barely contain.

But she had today.

"Cal, I'm sorry." His soft voice pulled her from her troublesome musings.

She turned, meeting his gaze head on. "You don't have anything to be sorry for," she said, giving him a small smile.

He scoffed. "Well, I certainly ruined your evening for one. And I'm sorry I snapped at you just now."

"I didn't take it personally," she reassured. "And what landed you here wasn't your fault."

"Well, I'm not going to debate that with you, but I'm still sorry." He tilted his head and flashed a crooked smile. "Look at the bright side, though, I'll probably be able to remember the date after this. That should please you."

Her eyebrows rose slightly as a questioning look crossed her face. "What do you mean?"

"Our anniversary," he answered, looking pleased with himself. "After today the date will likely stick in my mind."

"Oh," she murmured softly, looking away.

"Ya gotta admit, today turned out to be a memorable one."

Her shoulders stiffened and her face froze. "No, it didn't," she answered hastily. "There's nothing about today I want to remember." As it was, she feared there was nothing about today she'd be able to forget.

"Come on Calleigh, it's not that bad, it was just a knife wound."

For a moment, she thought it was the drug talking, but he certainly looked lucid. "Not that bad?" Her voice was shrill, her expression severe. "Jake, you could've died," she said in a voice filled with raw emotion. Her breath caught on the words and tightened in her chest.

"Yeah, I suppose, but I didn't," he answered, fixing a wary look on her. He reached for her arm, but she pulled away.

"Don't," she said sharply, angered that she'd let her emotion get the better of her.

"Cal, I know it was probably upsetting, but…" he began before she interrupted.

"Upsetting?" Her voice rose an octave as she looked at him with disbelief.

"Well, yeah," he answered hesitantly, still looking at her warily. "I didn't want you worrying Calleigh, although I knew you probably would." He stopped as if now uncertain what to say next. "Everything turned out okay," he continued after a moment's pause, but she'd stopped listening and turned her gaze back to the window.

Impatiently she rubbed at her temple as if the movement would push her emotion-laden thoughts away, but now sprung from the back of her mind, they hovered on her lips.

"Calleigh, talk to me." His gentle voice broke through her ponderings.

"It's nothing," she said, flashing him a tight-lipped, strained smile before looking away. "You should try to rest."

His fingertips found their way to her chin, and he turned her face towards him. "Calleigh, please." He fixed his steady gaze on her, holding her in the warmth of his eyes and rested his fingers on her cheek. With one look, he'd broken through her fragile control. There was nowhere she could hide. The fears she'd held on to all day spilled out in a rush.

"I thought it was you on the phone, calling to say you were on your way home, but it was Frank," she said, fighting to keep her voice steady. "He told me you'd been badly hurt, that you were holding on, but you'd already lost a lot of blood. I didn't know what to think. I wasn't even sure I'd get to the hospital in time." Pausing for a moment, she pressed her lips together, almost obscuring them completely. "I was scared." He held her eyes trance-like while she took in a slow, shuddering breath. "I thought I might lose you for good this time."

Love cut deep; loss cut deeper, deep enough to tear out a heart, leaving unimaginable emptiness in its place.

He didn't speak for several long seconds, and in the silence, the moment of intimacy that passed between them acted as a balm, soothing her troubled mind. "Never for good, Calleigh," he said softly. "There are some things you hold on to even if you lose 'em, no matter what."

_Never for good_. The words echoed in her mind. Wishful thinking perhaps, but she understood what he was trying to tell her. There was a comforting truth in what he'd said. His love she'd hold on to… no matter what.

"You know, there was a minute when I wondered if that was gonna be it, but all I could think about was you. And there was no way I wasn't going to see you again all because no one saw that knife. No way," he said, narrowing his eyes and shaking his head. "It just wasn't gonna happen like that. Damn, I was pissed…" His voice trailed off.

His expression left her no doubt that he was serious, but the notion that Jake fancied himself too stubborn and angry to let a knife do him in tickled her just the same, and she smiled widely, barely suppressing the giggle that threatened to escape.

He looked at her curiously through weary eyes. "Don't know what I said that was so amusing, but it's nice to see that smile again," he said, slipping his fingers behind her neck.

"I love you, Jake."

"I love you, too, Cal. I hope you know how much."

Enough to make certain it was the last thing he said to her, even if it came by way of Natalia. "I do," she said, leaning in and pressing her lips against his. His eyes were droopy. She could tell he was fighting sleep, but whether he liked it or not, the medication was going to win this battle. "Will you please try to get some sleep now?"

"I suppose so, my eyes are about to close and my head's getting a little foggy. You gonna be okay driving home?"

"Oh, I'm not leaving."

"You can't sit in that chair all night. You need to get some sleep."

"It reclines," she said brightly. "I'll sleep just fine."

"Calleigh, you don't have to stay."

"I know that, but I'm still not leaving."

"This is one of those times I shouldn't bother arguing with you, isn't it?" he asked, punctuating his question with a yawn. His lids slipped down over his eyes, but he jerked them open and blinked several times.

She laughed. "I don't think you have the strength."

"You're probably right. And it's not like it's one I'd try to win cause I really don't want you to leave."

Lying in a hospital bed, pale, drugged and sleepy, with eyes that were imploring her not to leave his side, he was the picture of vulnerability. And she had never loved him more than at that very moment.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that. I'm not going anywhere, I'll be right here if you need anything."

"Okay," he said, closing his eyes.

"Happy Anniversary, I love you," she whispered.

"Mm, me, too," he mumbled.

This wasn't the anniversary celebration she'd envisioned, but they were together and that was enough. After pressing one more kiss against his lips, she eased off the bed and settled back into the chair.

Relaxing into the cushions, she felt the weight she'd been carrying for hours slide off her shoulders. Jake would be fine, she knew that now, just as she knew it would be some time before her apprehension would ease up and return to the dulled back-of-the mind disquiet she'd learned to live with long ago.

Watching him sleep, her thoughts drifted back to the day they'd met. In her mind's eye, she could see him just as clearly as the day he sidled up next to her wearing an irresistible grin. Cocky and oozing charm, she'd sized him up with one hasty look and turned away, only to find herself drawn back into his gaze, straight into eyes filled only with her. She smiled to herself. He had certainly proven himself worthy of a second look.

Second glances, second chances, it was all a matter of opening eyes and hearts to possibilities. Love, like life, was unexpected, uncertain, and transitory. Love, like life, was something to cherish. Today she'd discovered just how much, and that was a feeling worth holding on to.

The End


End file.
